Prologue
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Alas, I’ve but one…“flaw.”
Alister
June 21, the first day of summer…
“This…might be a problem,” Leeann, grandmother to the love of my life, August, murmurs, glancing across the coffee table in her friend Lynn’s quaint tea parlor. Breath bated, I sit—awaiting her verdict—when her attention settles heavily on my hair.
The jet black locks fall in tousled waves across my forehead and around my ears.
My chest squeezes under the scrutiny, but I’m no stranger to problems. I’m even what one might considergood at solving them. Nevertheless, nerves grip me. Throat tight, I ask, “What might be a problem?”
Grandma Beth purses her lips, and then the three elderly women—my grandmother Beth, August’s grandmother Leeann, and their friend Lynn—are peering at me. After a short perusal, their eyes lower to the yellow binder that the love of my life presented her grandmother with just a few days ago.
Within the ornate pages rests the depiction of August’s precise romantic desires. AKA: herexacttype.
Judging by the women’s faces, her exact type isnotanything close to me.
Leeann’s lip curls. “Blond,” she spits. With a disparaging sigh, she sags against the couch. Fingers over her eyes, she bemoans, “I cannot believe this. My own flesh and blood wants ablond.Blond!Here I have a flawless specimen ready to dropto his knees for her, and I’m being foiled by foolish naivete.” Labored breath fills her lungs. “This is a travesty.”
Craning my neck, I do everything in my power to catch a glimpse of the page the women are analyzing. A sea of blond anime male leads greets me in an overwhelming collage of princely characters. My heart skips a beat.
That’s just so…
August.
Despite what it means for me, an unfortunate brunette, I melt.
In solidarity, Lynn pats Leeann’s hand. “We cannot control the whims of the youth, no matter how egregiously incorrect they might be. However, she’s young yet. She can still learn.”
Learn what, exactly? To use actual people in her reference photos when she petitions her grandmother to seek out and arrange the perfect relationship for her? Or do they mean that she can still learn that blond leads are, well,blond?
I meet my grandmother’s blue eyes.
Grandma Beth smiles and adjusts the thin wire frames of her glasses, then she straightens her expression and claps her hands. “Ladies, ladies…let’s not get caught up in appearances. Personality is what matters most.” She reaches for the binder in Leeann’s lap and turns the page away from all the many, many blond boys to an equally adorned spread loaded with washi tape, stickers, and brush pen cursive letters I can’t make out.
On the whole, I’m not certain that the vibe of this binder screams what I know about August Winslow, but I suppose there’s a chance I don’tknowmuch about her at all. Which is, of course, one of the reasons I’m here: to discuss the possibility that August might be interested in me with her grandmother.
Gentle, Grandma Beth draws her finger down an itemized list in the binder. Her brows pucker.
Lynn presses against Leeann as both the other women squeeze toward the binder and steal a look. Opposite my grandmother’s apprehension, their eyes glitter.
“Unfortunately—” Grandma Beth sighs, gaze fixed on Leeann. “—it seems sheisrelated to you.”
Leeann cackles, lifting her chin. “I have never been more proud. Though, after that first page, my expectations have lowered considerably.”
Grandma Beth deflates. “I’m glad you’re content, but…” She waves her hand at the text. “I’m afraid this won’t do. Ali isn’t anything like this.”
My heart sinks. Right. Of course.
Why would I be exactly what the woman I’ve fallen in love with is looking for? That’d be a huge coincidence, and I already used up all my coincidences when August—a woman who lives in the same town that my grandmother retired to—applied to become my virtual assistant.
Still.
My fists clench, and—just like the lead in any decent shonen anime—I find myself unwilling to give up just yet. “What am I not like?” I ask.
